THE ‘swamp’ which I aim to improve is a secondary school public educational setting in a coastal suburb in regional NSW. It is no different to many other ‘swamp’ areas in the school itself – but it offers possibilities for change by the very nature of the students who enter through its doors. If we as educators are serious about how we wish to deliver quality learning in a digital age, then we need to live up to our promise of change, in order to meet the demands of our students.’ (Freeman: 2012). This assignment aims to address a relatively insignificant area in a school setting and transform it into a vibrant and welcoming learning environment that meets the needs of educators, stakeholders and Indigenous students. It will also highlight the philosophical aims of the design as well as offer further insight into how change may be of benefit to the school and greater community. My ‘swamp’ as mentioned, is an insignificant classroom in a secondary school of 600 students (…..). It is insignificant precisely because it is exactly the same as most of the classrooms in the school. There are dark blue curtains on the window, some hanging haphazard through too much use and dull from many days bleached by the heat of summer. The walls have yellow grey hue, scuffed from years of wear and tear. The floor plan has square tables on dark blue carpet that face the front of the room and a whiteboard and projector as the main room features. There is also a teacher table at the front of the room and when students enter, they know from the layout, what is expected. As the door is opened, students enter and sit at seats to face the teacher at the front. ‘I suppose I liken the present experience of teaching to eating dry biscuits instead of feeling hungry for a smorgasboard of educational interaction which is exciting and motivating. We as educators are short-changing ourselves and our students. Instead of learning being an enjoyable experience, full of expression and endless possibilities, we submit ourselves and our students to endless hours of tasteless, dry, monotonous learning, often denying the use of technology in the classroom. I suppose I have begun to ‘wake-up’ and realise there is so much we can achieve in a small space. After all, there is a whole world out there … something NSW education has been trying to sell to families and the wider community with its digital roll-out of lap-tops and smart classrooms.’ (Freeman, 2012).
THEN: This 1800s classroom reflects a pedagogical practice where books and the authority of the teacher were the primary source of information (… ). NOW: With the influx of digital information cyber-learning is now recognised as a real interactive research tool for students to learn. Classroom design can do with a shake-up to reflect the new attitude to learning and how we view the world (Freeman: 2012). I would like to develop a future-focused learning space to integrate the physical and virtual, by firstly highlighting how the room is used. As this classroom is primarily used for Indigenous students, through roll calls, Aboriginal Studies and tutoring, we need to acknowledge also the key stakeholders in this transformation of space. Apart from NSW Education key representatives, like the principal, there is also teaching staff, students and tutors. But these are only the most obvious users of the room. The ripple effect becomes much larger when we realise who actually uses the room through invitation and makes their physical presence known through attendance in-class. These are representatives from the local Aboriginal community organisations as well as the school-based Aboriginal Community Partnership Officer (ACPO), who encourages involvement of parents, as well as the local Aboriginal lands council and the Aboriginal Educational Consultative Group (AECG). The aim of transformation, to create a lively, fresh, welcome, comfortable and formal/informal learning space that is modular and effective in its delivery of various styles of educational collaboration and interaction, now has to significantly transform from a ‘swamp’. Possibilities include opening up the north facing windows to include double glass doors facing onto the courtyard and a patio and a pergola. In the class there would be modular furniture shaped into a circle table that can be broken up when necessary for group-work or personal reflection, a smart-board and a comfortable couch near a small kitchen facility. The walls can highlight paintings from the students themselves and a time-line representing significant events in Aboriginal history in Australia since invasion. Outside the patio can be planted with native grasses and plants and the pergola can have a native climber, to block the heat of summer. The courtyard leads to another outdoor area of the school, the ‘yarning circle’ (created for the Indigenous students and community) which is tucked away near the back gate of the school and is rarely used. The patio could lead to a path with Indigenous local (and locally approved) motifs through it that winds to the yarning circle and the back gate, thereby allowing visitors to enter the grounds without having to face the long walk through the front offices and administration to the classroom. The challenge is to create a collaborative process that engages all the stakeholders in a constructive and realistic way. One possibility is the idea of a ‘challette’, used to great effect in California to allow brain-storming amongst stakeholders and quick steps forward on key ideas about the aim of the project (…..:,,,,). Another way to move through the design process is to hold a meeting with key stakeholders in school to include the ACPO officer, flesh out some ideas associated with the aim of the site and then ask all stakeholders to attend the AECG meeting to discuss the possibilities for transformation. Stages of the process would necessitate collaboration, consultation, design, consultation again and confirmation of process. In conclusion, such a process would allow for all opportunities for funding to be assessed and avenues for effective and realistic design to be created and presented, with positive results. PART B: Critical analysis of the design. ‘The body exists in space and space for Michel Foucault is a metaphor for the site or container of power which sometimes liberates but usually constrains processes of becoming. For Foucault there are many spaces of social control that discriminate against certain groups in society, groups such as men and women, for examples’ (Franz; 2012). ‘For many older Indigenous Australians, education has not been a positive experience. Many often felt belittled in their early years in the class as teachers and other students racially stereotyped students and their expectations of school and what they hoped to achieve in learning.’ (Forrest: 2012). ‘How does one fulfil a vision for a new building which calls for a symbolic statement of cross-cultural respect, dignity, equality and engagement’ (Memmott and Reser: 2012). These three statements above represent the dilemma involved in transforming a traditional educational setting into a viable future learning space relevant to local community. Never before in Australian history has there been such a need for reconciliation displayed in education with Indigenous Australians. With Indigenous academic rates tabbed as the lowest nationally, followed closely by increasing absenteeism as students move into the higher stages of schooling and higher education, a wider range of stakeholders can be called upon to justify the transformation of a small learning space for Indigenous students in any school. The Australian ACARA lists 21 national goals to display just how important a more equitable and inclusive approach is for achieving better educational outcomes. This approach is ratified by all other governing authorities who have aligned themselves under the ‘Bridging The Gap’ policy, to aggressively move towards reducing the extreme rates of low retention and literacy and numeracy by 2012 (AEP Major Goal ACARA. P1). Design of space must be addressed if change can occur as historically, many floor plans which Indigenous Australians have endured come from antiquated public design Indeed, academics show historically that following the French Revolution, space design had important ramifications on the lifestyle of people. Many institutions, like libraries and museums, were designed around an authoritative plan, witnessed, with an inward facing courtyard and areas where people could be observed. Indigenous Australians know too well the organisation of space to send a message to the user, having experienced or had stories passed through generations about the various forms of institutional incarceration, from reserves, to missions to schools and sadly, gaol. As Day ponders with his heuristic approach to design and education, how does a space support or hinder learning philosophy? He goes on to suggest space does reflect the collaboration and feedback from various stakeholders. The AEP reinforces this point when it addresses a major goal is consultation with Indigenous community. Other stakeholders who we may not immediately think about but who may have an interest are regional, state, territory and national governing bodies because of the interrelation of government and its commitment to Bridging the Gap. Therefore, the collaborative process of this design, perhaps drawn out over long periods of time, is imperative if it is to be a successful tool for encouraging learning. Franz in her presentation on space and design mentions political space as important when it comes to transforming the room I have highlighted above. The transformation of our room through consultative process thereby enables not just ownership of the site but ownership in the important cross-cultural delivery of education for the benefit of Indigenous students. The importance of having a space which allows for family and friends to come and participate in an informal way, also allows the transmission of Indigenous cultural values not just to students but sends a message to the whole school about the importance of the ACARA aims for Indigenous education and the future. Likewise, the use of the patio and path past the yarning circle to the back gate, where guests are welcomed, allows for various entry and exit points for invited guests, to minimise the feeling of scrutiny many Indigenous people feel when entering the heavily fortified, often locked front gates of the school. To create a space that makes a statement about culture, people and education, also means there is an existential awakening which enhances the productivity of learning and a future focused learning space. To feel comfortable in a place is essential for those Indigenous people invited to participate in the educational process. Elders who enter from the community feel validated in their experience of teaching, something which the curriculum asserts is important in Aboriginal Studies. Students are encouraged to perform community consultation for their major projects but this is hard when the local community cannot see the relevance of an institutional space of learning. Transformation is likely to occur when the space is transformed into a place of cultural dignity, where reciprocity between various stakeholders is obviously respected (Forrest: 2012). The virtual space is a unique attribute which can be capitalised on in the classroom. Wireless across the school, coupled with the NSW Department of Education’s roll-out of lap-tops promoted as a means of enabling students to be digitally ready when they leave school, means learning can occur anywhere in the classroom and is not necessarily tied to computer tables and chairs. As we move away from the traditional mode of transmission of lessons to more virtual possibilities, we free space in rooms. The use of a smart-board only enhances the possibility of cyber-learning in school as students and teachers interact with programs which invite participation from students individually and in group work environments. ‘Our perceived experience of interior and exterior architectural space is primarily a sensual event involving movement. Each experience affects the orchestrated functioning of our senses in a variety of ways – our eyes, ears, nose and skin registering changing stimuli which trigger a flood of brain responses on all levels’ (Porter: 1997) It is important to look at this classroom space not as an isolated example of design for a small group of people who may enter the room. This space needs to be integrated into the evolving environment of the school as new pedagogical issues are addressed within the context of a built institution. As such, this space lends itself to an exterior and interior flow which interrelates and tells a story. The story, rather than one of confinement, is that of a journey, of history and cultural expression. It moves from the seemingly institutional environment in the corridor, through to the classroom itself, flowing out onto the patio, then further into the courtyard where a path leads to the yarning circle and a school entrance gate. Linking the yarning circle to the classroom enables easy flow and ownership of the two sites for the purpose of creating an Indigenous space and discussion about education and pedagogical practices. The path affirms the link and the authority of invited Aboriginal speakers and community members to traverse between the two pedagogical sites. It also serves to educate other non-indigenous people about the importance of Indigenous pedagogical practices in the school environment. “I think the design of a learning environment needs to portray to the Indigenous kids that their system of learning and things that are learnt, have value. In years gone by, when Aboriginal culture/people, were considered of no cultural human worth, this would have been a very negative impact on learning outcomes for Aboriginal children. If they are in a classroom where they are made to feel proud of their culture, that there is an intrinsic worth in their human-ness, this makes for better learning outcomes and retention rates” (Forrest, J: 2012. P. 1) One example of how a space can be transformed is witnessed in the recent invitation by the Australian Catholic University to international guests to experience their Indigenous Reflection Space at the Brisbane campus. The site is not just contained within the campus but also links to the Banyo and Bora rings at the nearby Nudgee waterholes (ACU 2012. P1). When considering our site and its links from the classroom to the yarning circle, there is also an aspect at the circle which lends itself to respect the mountains behind the school which host thousands of Indigenous carvings, some circling sacred male and female areas. Here is another opportunity to link to the spiritual connection which Indigenous people have with country. While many families have heritage from across NSW and inter-state, the relation to country is one which all families respect and a proposal to work on the yarning circle and increase its fluidity so that it oscillates between the pedagogical environment of the school and the local community would be good to develop through consultation. As with the ACU site, the educational benefit of such a space has multiple possibilities. The classroom and the link to the yarning circle can support cultural studies, reconciliation, learning circles, traditional welcome to country as well as performance vents like music, poetry and drama. This approach is reaffirmed by the educational philosophy that links the natural environment with student engagement. Referring to Piaget’s demands for experiential learning, there is now a push to move away from ‘outdoor deficit behaviour’ in pedagogy to imbedding nature into the experience of learning. While the focus here has primarily related to environmental practices in education, it is nevertheless a good example of how unique Indigenous cultures in Australia can utilise outdoor space to reinforce Indigenous pedagogy practices in a mainstream environment (Brooks: 2012). It is interesting to note there are examples that Indigenous people can draw on in their collaboration regarding the design of an educational space. In Australia, the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies was built after extensive discussion and academic debate about space and design and architecture and its representation of Indigenous cultures. The brief for the design competition was to: ‘provide a national focus on Indigenous social and cultural issues contextualised within a wider cultural context which will resonate a powerful Indigenous essence.’ (Memmott and Reser). While the local classroom and surrounding space is obviously a less grandiose project, nevertheless the issue stays the same regarding designing in a public space to imbue it with authentic Indigenous values in pedagogy. Here the parallels become important as the architects talk about the importance of consultation with stakeholders and ownership by Indigenous people in the process of the design. Time is an important aspect of the consultation, although the push for transformation of pedagogical practice in all government briefs is now, not tomorrow. There are many ways to go about formulating a plan for the development of an Indigenous pedagogical space, such as brainstorming, entry ‘rituals’ on the site, marking the space with traditional totems, inviting media to join the debate and interactive sessions that include questions regarding landscape. But as part of a process stakeholders are reminded that: ‘It might be the case that what is ultimately most symbolic and powerful about the meaning of the building for Aboriginal and Islander people is that they participated in the process whereby the building came about.’ (Memmott and Reser: p6. ) Furthermore, the incorporation of local and generic symbols available to all traditional people, like the rainbow serpent, allows for the presence of a cosmology that is reflective and adds depth of meaning to the site. In conclusion, with the national push for reconciliation reflected in all areas of government across Australia, the need to address the issue of design and learning has never been more imperative. Deadlines for ‘Bridging the Gap’ speak of the need to make up for lost time when it comes to the plight of Indigenous Australians and the last two hundred years of Australian history since invasion. But many Indigenous Australians are proud of the fact they have survived regardless of the various institutional policies, also witnessed in education, which have denied families an entry into society in an equitable and inclusive way. As such, it is imperative local communities and their governing body representatives, are heard. Collaboration and consultation is a highly critical aspect of any design of space in any institution which is used daily by Indigenous people. The proposal for the classroom listed above is only that, a proposal. But it is a move away from the blue-grey walls of an institution which may induce very negative feelings in Aboriginal people, reflected in countless stories. Therefore, with collaboration that involves so many stakeholders, change will occur in an organic way which will necessitate an evolution of ideas and philosophies - and may even have repercussions to other classrooms in the school as the issue of digital education and modern pedagogical practices come into focus. Indeed, it will have its effect on how Indigenous students view their role in learning within a school environment and how their contribution is respected and valued in a society that is moving from towards reconciliation with Indigenous Australians in all levels of authority.
Welcome to Your New Wiki!
THE ‘swamp’ which I aim to improve is a secondary school public educational setting in a coastal suburb in regional NSW. It is no different to many other ‘swamp’ areas in the school itself – but it offers possibilities for change by the very nature of the students who enter through its doors. If we as educators are serious about how we wish to deliver quality learning in a digital age, then we need to live up to our promise of change, in order to meet the demands of our students.’ (Freeman: 2012).This assignment aims to address a relatively insignificant area in a school setting and transform it into a vibrant and welcoming learning environment that meets the needs of educators, stakeholders and Indigenous students. It will also highlight the philosophical aims of the design as well as offer further insight into how change may be of benefit to the school and greater community.
My ‘swamp’ as mentioned, is an insignificant classroom in a secondary school of 600 students (…..). It is insignificant precisely because it is exactly the same as most of the classrooms in the school. There are dark blue curtains on the window, some hanging haphazard through too much use and dull from many days bleached by the heat of summer. The walls have yellow grey hue, scuffed from years of wear and tear. The floor plan has square tables on dark blue carpet that face the front of the room and a whiteboard and projector as the main room features. There is also a teacher table at the front of the room and when students enter, they know from the layout, what is expected. As the door is opened, students enter and sit at seats to face the teacher at the front.
‘I suppose I liken the present experience of teaching to eating dry biscuits instead of feeling hungry for a smorgasboard of educational interaction which is exciting and motivating. We as educators are short-changing ourselves and our students. Instead of learning being an enjoyable experience, full of expression and endless possibilities, we submit ourselves and our students to endless hours of tasteless, dry, monotonous learning, often denying the use of technology in the classroom. I suppose I have begun to ‘wake-up’ and realise there is so much we can achieve in a small space. After all, there is a whole world out there … something NSW education has been trying to sell to families and the wider community with its digital roll-out of lap-tops and smart classrooms.’ (Freeman, 2012).
THEN: This 1800s classroom reflects a pedagogical practice where books and the authority of the teacher were the primary source of information (… ). NOW: With the influx of digital information cyber-learning is now recognised as a real interactive research tool for students to learn. Classroom design can do with a shake-up to reflect the new attitude to learning and how we view the world (Freeman: 2012).
I would like to develop a future-focused learning space to integrate the physical and virtual, by firstly highlighting how the room is used. As this classroom is primarily used for Indigenous students, through roll calls, Aboriginal Studies and tutoring, we need to acknowledge also the key stakeholders in this transformation of space. Apart from NSW Education key representatives, like the principal, there is also teaching staff, students and tutors. But these are only the most obvious users of the room. The ripple effect becomes much larger when we realise who actually uses the room through invitation and makes their physical presence known through attendance in-class. These are representatives from the local Aboriginal community organisations as well as the school-based Aboriginal Community Partnership Officer (ACPO), who encourages involvement of parents, as well as the local Aboriginal lands council and the Aboriginal Educational Consultative Group (AECG). The aim of transformation, to create a lively, fresh, welcome, comfortable and formal/informal learning space that is modular and effective in its delivery of various styles of educational collaboration and interaction, now has to significantly transform from a ‘swamp’.
Possibilities include opening up the north facing windows to include double glass doors facing onto the courtyard and a patio and a pergola. In the class there would be modular furniture shaped into a circle table that can be broken up when necessary for group-work or personal reflection, a smart-board and a comfortable couch near a small kitchen facility. The walls can highlight paintings from the students themselves and a time-line representing significant events in Aboriginal history in Australia since invasion. Outside the patio can be planted with native grasses and plants and the pergola can have a native climber, to block the heat of summer. The courtyard leads to another outdoor area of the school, the ‘yarning circle’ (created for the Indigenous students and community) which is tucked away near the back gate of the school and is rarely used. The patio could lead to a path with Indigenous local (and locally approved) motifs through it that winds to the yarning circle and the back gate, thereby allowing visitors to enter the grounds without having to face the long walk through the front offices and administration to the classroom.
The challenge is to create a collaborative process that engages all the stakeholders in a constructive and realistic way. One possibility is the idea of a ‘challette’, used to great effect in California to allow brain-storming amongst stakeholders and quick steps forward on key ideas about the aim of the project (…..:,,,,). Another way to move through the design process is to hold a meeting with key stakeholders in school to include the ACPO officer, flesh out some ideas associated with the aim of the site and then ask all stakeholders to attend the AECG meeting to discuss the possibilities for transformation. Stages of the process would necessitate collaboration, consultation, design, consultation again and confirmation of process. In conclusion, such a process would allow for all opportunities for funding to be assessed and avenues for effective and realistic design to be created and presented, with positive results.
PART B: Critical analysis of the design.
‘The body exists in space and space for Michel Foucault is a metaphor for the site or container of power which sometimes liberates but usually constrains processes of becoming. For Foucault there are many spaces of social control that discriminate against certain groups in society, groups such as men and women, for examples’ (Franz; 2012).
‘For many older Indigenous Australians, education has not been a positive experience. Many often felt belittled in their early years in the class as teachers and other students racially stereotyped students and their expectations of school and what they hoped to achieve in learning.’ (Forrest: 2012).
‘How does one fulfil a vision for a new building which calls for a symbolic statement of cross-cultural respect, dignity, equality and engagement’ (Memmott and Reser: 2012).
These three statements above represent the dilemma involved in transforming a traditional educational setting into a viable future learning space relevant to local community.
Never before in Australian history has there been such a need for reconciliation displayed in education with Indigenous Australians. With Indigenous academic rates tabbed as the lowest nationally, followed closely by increasing absenteeism as students move into the higher stages of schooling and higher education, a wider range of stakeholders can be called upon to justify the transformation of a small learning space for Indigenous students in any school. The Australian ACARA lists 21 national goals to display just how important a more equitable and inclusive approach is for achieving better educational outcomes. This approach is ratified by all other governing authorities who have aligned themselves under the ‘Bridging The Gap’ policy, to aggressively move towards reducing the extreme rates of low retention and literacy and numeracy by 2012 (AEP Major Goal ACARA. P1). Design of space must be addressed if change can occur as historically, many floor plans which Indigenous Australians have endured come from antiquated public design Indeed, academics show historically that following the French Revolution, space design had important ramifications on the lifestyle of people. Many institutions, like libraries and museums, were designed around an authoritative plan, witnessed, with an inward facing courtyard and areas where people could be observed. Indigenous Australians know too well the organisation of space to send a message to the user, having experienced or had stories passed through generations about the various forms of institutional incarceration, from reserves, to missions to schools and sadly, gaol. As Day ponders with his heuristic approach to design and education, how does a space support or hinder learning philosophy? He goes on to suggest space does reflect the collaboration and feedback from various stakeholders. The AEP reinforces this point when it addresses a major goal is consultation with Indigenous community. Other stakeholders who we may not immediately think about but who may have an interest are regional, state, territory and national governing bodies because of the interrelation of government and its commitment to Bridging the Gap. Therefore, the collaborative process of this design, perhaps drawn out over long periods of time, is imperative if it is to be a successful tool for encouraging learning.
Franz in her presentation on space and design mentions political space as important when it comes to transforming the room I have highlighted above. The transformation of our room through consultative process thereby enables not just ownership of the site but ownership in the important cross-cultural delivery of education for the benefit of Indigenous students. The importance of having a space which allows for family and friends to come and participate in an informal way, also allows the transmission of Indigenous cultural values not just to students but sends a message to the whole school about the importance of the ACARA aims for Indigenous education and the future. Likewise, the use of the patio and path past the yarning circle to the back gate, where guests are welcomed, allows for various entry and exit points for invited guests, to minimise the feeling of scrutiny many Indigenous people feel when entering the heavily fortified, often locked front gates of the school.
To create a space that makes a statement about culture, people and education, also means there is an existential awakening which enhances the productivity of learning and a future focused learning space. To feel comfortable in a place is essential for those Indigenous people invited to participate in the educational process. Elders who enter from the community feel validated in their experience of teaching, something which the curriculum asserts is important in Aboriginal Studies. Students are encouraged to perform community consultation for their major projects but this is hard when the local community cannot see the relevance of an institutional space of learning. Transformation is likely to occur when the space is transformed into a place of cultural dignity, where reciprocity between various stakeholders is obviously respected (Forrest: 2012).
The virtual space is a unique attribute which can be capitalised on in the classroom. Wireless across the school, coupled with the NSW Department of Education’s roll-out of lap-tops promoted as a means of enabling students to be digitally ready when they leave school, means learning can occur anywhere in the classroom and is not necessarily tied to computer tables and chairs. As we move away from the traditional mode of transmission of lessons to more virtual possibilities, we free space in rooms. The use of a smart-board only enhances the possibility of cyber-learning in school as students and teachers interact with programs which invite participation from students individually and in group work environments.
‘Our perceived experience of interior and exterior architectural space is primarily a sensual event involving movement. Each experience affects the orchestrated functioning of our senses in a variety of ways – our eyes, ears, nose and skin registering changing stimuli which trigger a flood of brain responses on all levels’ (Porter: 1997)
It is important to look at this classroom space not as an isolated example of design for a small group of people who may enter the room. This space needs to be integrated into the evolving environment of the school as new pedagogical issues are addressed within the context of a built institution. As such, this space lends itself to an exterior and interior flow which interrelates and tells a story. The story, rather than one of confinement, is that of a journey, of history and cultural expression. It moves from the seemingly institutional environment in the corridor, through to the classroom itself, flowing out onto the patio, then further into the courtyard where a path leads to the yarning circle and a school entrance gate. Linking the yarning circle to the classroom enables easy flow and ownership of the two sites for the purpose of creating an Indigenous space and discussion about education and pedagogical practices. The path affirms the link and the authority of invited Aboriginal speakers and community members to traverse between the two pedagogical sites. It also serves to educate other non-indigenous people about the importance of Indigenous pedagogical practices in the school environment.
“I think the design of a learning environment needs to portray to the Indigenous kids that their system of learning and things that are learnt, have value. In years gone by, when Aboriginal culture/people, were considered of no cultural human worth, this would have been a very negative impact on learning outcomes for Aboriginal children. If they are in a classroom where they are made to feel proud of their culture, that there is an intrinsic worth in their human-ness, this makes for better learning outcomes and retention rates” (Forrest, J: 2012. P. 1)
One example of how a space can be transformed is witnessed in the recent invitation by the Australian Catholic University to international guests to experience their Indigenous Reflection Space at the Brisbane campus. The site is not just contained within the campus but also links to the Banyo and Bora rings at the nearby Nudgee waterholes (ACU 2012. P1). When considering our site and its links from the classroom to the yarning circle, there is also an aspect at the circle which lends itself to respect the mountains behind the school which host thousands of Indigenous carvings, some circling sacred male and female areas. Here is another opportunity to link to the spiritual connection which Indigenous people have with country. While many families have heritage from across NSW and inter-state, the relation to country is one which all families respect and a proposal to work on the yarning circle and increase its fluidity so that it oscillates between the pedagogical environment of the school and the local community would be good to develop through consultation. As with the ACU site, the educational benefit of such a space has multiple possibilities. The classroom and the link to the yarning circle can support cultural studies, reconciliation, learning circles, traditional welcome to country as well as performance vents like music, poetry and drama.
This approach is reaffirmed by the educational philosophy that links the natural environment with student engagement. Referring to Piaget’s demands for experiential learning, there is now a push to move away from ‘outdoor deficit behaviour’ in pedagogy to imbedding nature into the experience of learning. While the focus here has primarily related to environmental practices in education, it is nevertheless a good example of how unique Indigenous cultures in Australia can utilise outdoor space to reinforce Indigenous pedagogy practices in a mainstream environment (Brooks: 2012).
It is interesting to note there are examples that Indigenous people can draw on in their collaboration regarding the design of an educational space. In Australia, the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies was built after extensive discussion and academic debate about space and design and architecture and its representation of Indigenous cultures. The brief for the design competition was to: ‘provide a national focus on Indigenous social and cultural issues contextualised within a wider cultural context which will resonate a powerful Indigenous essence.’ (Memmott and Reser). While the local classroom and surrounding space is obviously a less grandiose project, nevertheless the issue stays the same regarding designing in a public space to imbue it with authentic Indigenous values in pedagogy. Here the parallels become important as the architects talk about the importance of consultation with stakeholders and ownership by Indigenous people in the process of the design.
Time is an important aspect of the consultation, although the push for transformation of pedagogical practice in all government briefs is now, not tomorrow. There are many ways to go about formulating a plan for the development of an Indigenous pedagogical space, such as brainstorming, entry ‘rituals’ on the site, marking the space with traditional totems, inviting media to join the debate and interactive sessions that include questions regarding landscape. But as part of a process stakeholders are reminded that: ‘It might be the case that what is ultimately most symbolic and powerful about the meaning of the building for Aboriginal and Islander people is that they participated in the process whereby the building came about.’ (Memmott and Reser: p6. ) Furthermore, the incorporation of local and generic symbols available to all traditional people, like the rainbow serpent, allows for the presence of a cosmology that is reflective and adds depth of meaning to the site.
In conclusion, with the national push for reconciliation reflected in all areas of government across Australia, the need to address the issue of design and learning has never been more imperative. Deadlines for ‘Bridging the Gap’ speak of the need to make up for lost time when it comes to the plight of Indigenous Australians and the last two hundred years of Australian history since invasion. But many Indigenous Australians are proud of the fact they have survived regardless of the various institutional policies, also witnessed in education, which have denied families an entry into society in an equitable and inclusive way. As such, it is imperative local communities and their governing body representatives, are heard. Collaboration and consultation is a highly critical aspect of any design of space in any institution which is used daily by Indigenous people. The proposal for the classroom listed above is only that, a proposal. But it is a move away from the blue-grey walls of an institution which may induce very negative feelings in Aboriginal people, reflected in countless stories. Therefore, with collaboration that involves so many stakeholders, change will occur in an organic way which will necessitate an evolution of ideas and philosophies - and may even have repercussions to other classrooms in the school as the issue of digital education and modern pedagogical practices come into focus. Indeed, it will have its effect on how Indigenous students view their role in learning within a school environment and how their contribution is respected and valued in a society that is moving from towards reconciliation with Indigenous Australians in all levels of authority.
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